Heroes

About the Author

My life has
been filled with heroes. My own father was a giant of a man who
understood that fathers and mothers are the most important forces
in their children's lives. And when I married my
knight-in-shining armor 20 years ago, God blessed me with another
hero: my father-in-law.

Papa John
quickly became an important part of my life. As I grew to know and
love him and my mother-in-law over the years, it was quite evident
why my husband is a man of strong character and selfless
love.

This week,
our dear Papa John died. But although I grieve that I no longer
will be able to hear his gentle voice on the phone, or see the
glimmer in his eye, or watch his warm embrace of my husband and our
children, I am so blessed in having learned from this great
champion of faith, family and freedom.

What follows
is an excerpt from my newly released book, Home Invasion: Protecting Your
Family in a Culture That's Gone Stark Raving
Mad. With Mother's Day and Father's Day around
the corner, I hope you will consider purchasing the book for a
parent who might need to be reminded of the importance of teaching
our kids about real heroes, and that very often, those heroes are
in our own families.

----------------------------

A couple
of years ago, my husband and I took his parents and ourkids to the Fantasy of Flight
Museum, a private collection in PolkCity, Florida, boasting what may be the
world's largest assemblageof airworthy vintage aircraft. Andy and
I felt the trip would bringa better understanding of what Papa
John, a World War II vet,and the "Greatest Generation" went
through to protect America'sfreedom some years ago.

Papa John wore his best poker face as he climbed
carefullythrough the
bomb-bay doors and into the fuselage, his grandsonsscrambling in close behind. But it had
to have been an emotionalmoment for him. During World War II, he
served with the 450thbomb group, as a nose gunner in
a B-24 Liberator, making runsfrom Italy into southern
Europe. Unlike many, he returned towed, raise a family, and see his kids
raise families of their own.

Even with
its bomb racks empty, the bomb bay was surprisinglycramped. Between the racks, the only way
forward to theflight deck and to Papa John's former
battle station was a narrowgirder, not even wide enough to be
called a catwalk. Negotiatingthat, then hunching down, and finally
crawling forward, PapaJohn advanced as far toward the
nose turret as his now-creakyknees would let him,
just far enough to brush aside a patch of spiderwebs and peer inside through its double
hatch.

He had certainly had a good view from that
position, as far forward as one could possibly be in an airplane,
with only a bubble of a Plexiglas between him and the frigid,
onrushing air. How had he folded himself, his parachute, and other
gear into that tiny space? How could he stay in that position for
up to eight hours? How did it feel to be shot at the first time?
What did it feel like to climb back in for a second mission? A
third? And what did you do to expel the thought that the next
mission might be your last?

True to form, Papa John was a fount of
knowledge about all things technical. He pointed out the dials and
knobs and handles, explained their purpose and how they worked.
Those things seemed to come back pretty easily. But how it all felt
was more difficult to put into words, maybe even to remember.

As with most of those who made it back,
there has rarely been an appropriate moment to share details of
those days. Even if the moment presented itself, the story is not
an easy one to tell. How does one present the full context of the
experience? Wanting above all to be accurate, how does one weave a
complete and coherent story out of a collection of memories, some
vivid and some vague, particularly when you never knew the whole
story anyway? And how do you tell your story knowing that it is
only a very small part of a very large undertaking? So, more often
than not, their stories go untold.

The silence is part of what makes Papa
John -- and so many like him in the Greatest Generation -- so
great. It is our duty, not theirs, to collect and preserve their
story. That is why it's good to build museums, write books, and
produce documentary films. It's right to recognize their sacrifice.
That is the reason we establish memorial days and create memorial
monuments in Washington and in hometowns across America. And it's
right to thank them by stepping forward to take up the banner of
service they carried so faithfully, and by working to restore an
America of virtue and strong moral values.

Rebecca Hagelinis Vice President of Communications and Marketing at
theHeritage Foundation.